Elizabeth Roth

I know we must’ve been close once.

How else would we end up here,

staring at the mangled corpse

of what was once our

unyielding friendship.

It’s been dead for quite some time,

but still,

you try

desperately

to find a pulse,

to hear a breath,

to stop the bleeding.

But I know it’s all in vain.

I also know

despite that

all-too deceiving

facade of an appearance,

the girl before me

is not the same

as the one who

years before

I thought needed me.

But she is the same girl

who years before

used me

in more ways than I know,

all from the start.

And for that,

I say,

stop trying.

You’ll never revive

what

we once had.

Let the body rot.

It’s dead but me?

I’m finally alive.